


Kind of Ridiculous

by AntarcticBird



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:42:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2803226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/pseuds/AntarcticBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Admit it, honey. It was bound to happen. This time, gravity won.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kind of Ridiculous

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [klaineadvent](http://klaineadvent.tumblr.com/) Day 19: Twist

“Hey,” Kurt says into his phone, glad to be out of the crowded subway as he climbs the last steps to street level. “I'm on my way home now and I've been thinking about pizza all day and just wanted to check, do you want me to pick some up for you too? For when you get home? We can heat it up -”

“Kurt,” Blaine says, and Kurt pauses.

“Yeah?”

“Um.” Blaine sounds a little sheepish, hesitates before speaking again. “I'm sort of home already?”

Kurt frowns, turning the corner onto their street. “What do you mean? Was your rehearsal canceled?”

“Well … not exactly.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, a little distracted as he digs through his bag for his wallet. “Listen, I'm almost at the pizza place, do you want some or don't you?”

“Do you even need to ask?” Blaine answers, and he sounds a little more cheerful already. “What did you think of getting? Because if they have it, can you get -”

“Extra jalapenos and green olives,” Kurt finishes his sentence for him, and laughs. “I know.”

“I love you so much. You're the best husband ever.”

“I am. And I love you too,” Kurt says. “I'll be right there.”

**

He climbs the stairs carefully holding the large pizza carton, which is hot and smells all kinds of delicious. He gently knocks on their door with the tip of his boots, and waits.

When nothing happens, he sighs deeply and digs for his keys, precariously balancing the giant pizza on one hand to unlock the door and push it open. “Blaine?” he calls, expecting him to be in the bathroom or maybe asleep since he didn't answer his knocking.

Instead, Blaine is sitting on the couch, looking at Kurt over the backrest with an apologetic smile on his face. “Hey, sweetheart!”

Kurt gives him a stern look, kicks the door shut behind himself. “Didn't you hear me? I could have used a little help!”

“Oh, I know, I'm sorry, I did hear you, I just -”

“If I had dropped this, I'd have sent you out to get a new one,” Kurt informs him, holding up the carton with their dinner.

“That might have been a bit difficult,” Blaine says, and Kurt is about to ask why when he walks around the couch toward the coffee table to set down their pizza. And there is his answer right in front of him.

“Oh my god, Blaine, what happened?” he asks, every last trace of annoyance just simply gone at the sight of Blaine's leg propped up on the table, wrapped up tightly and covered in ice packs. “Are you okay?” He hurries the last few steps over to him, quickly sets the pizza on the floor and falls to his knees in front of Blaine, reaching for his hand as his other hand hovers over his leg, not sure if he'll hurt him with his touch.

“I'm fine,” Blaine assures him. “It's just – it's silly.”

“It doesn't look silly.”

“It is, it's – it'll go away, I need to stay off of it for a bit and be careful and it's gonna be fine.”

“Does it hurt? What did you do? Do you need anything?” Kurt takes both his hands in his own, studies his face intently. He looks okay, he thinks. Mostly.

“The ice helps,” Blaine says. “It almost doesn't even hurt anymore.”

“How did it happen?” Kurt wants to know. “Rehearsal? I knew they were working you too hard -”

“No, it's not – it was – I just … landed wrong and twisted my ankle. It's fine.”

“Did you see a doctor?” Kurt asks, squeezing Blaine's hands. “Are you sure that nothing is broken?”

“It's just sprained,” Blaine tells him. “It'll be fine.”

“You'll miss a few rehearsals.”

“That can't be helped.”

“So, you're okay?”

“Yes, Kurt,” Blaine says, faking mild annoyance while gently cupping Kurt's cheek in one hand. “I'm okay. I promise.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, shoulders slumping in relief.

“I'm also a little hungry -”

“You know,” Kurt says, smiles as he lifts himself off the floor to sit on the couch next to Blaine instead and wrap his arms around his shoulders. “When we were still at Dalton? And you were doing those silly impromptu performances all of the time?”

Blaine laughs. “That was so much fun.”

“All of your numbers practically consisted of you jumping on furniture.” Kurt grins, leans in for a kiss, hugs him tighter. “Half the time I expected you to fall and twist your ankle. Or break something.”

“Yeah.”

“You never did.”

“Clearly, I'm not as graceful anymore.”

Kurt laughs. “Admit it, honey. It was bound to happen. This time, gravity won.”

Blaine knocks their foreheads together and grins. “Not quite.”

“What do you mean?”

Blaine shrugs. “This is not a dancing accident.”

“Oh.” Kurt grins back at him. “What was it then? Fell off the stage during your impressive monologue?”

Blaine shakes his head, squirms a little in his arms. “Uh, yeah, that was – well, no, not really, just -”

“Blaine,” Kurt says, pulling back a little, and now he's getting curious. “How did you sprain your ankle?”

“Well, I -” Blaine blushes a little, lets out an embarrassed little laugh, one hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I actually never made it to rehearsal today.”

“Huh?”

“I was just leaving and do you know old Mrs Brunelli from next door? Because she has a new puppy and they were outside and I was, um, waving to the dog and didn't look where I was going and I … tripped.”

“You tripped.”

“Off the curb.”

“Blaine,” Kurt says, and he doesn't know whether he wants to laugh or be angry. “You tripped off the curb because you were saying hello to a dog?`”

“You should have seen him!” Blaine beams at him. “It's the cutest little Beagle puppy, and he has those _ears_ -”

“I cannot believe you,” Kurt says. “And here I was feeling sorry for you!”

“- and those tiny little legs – wait, what? My ankle still really hurts!” Blaine exclaims, pouting at him.

“It's your own fault for _not watching where you're going_.” Kurt reminds him, but he's grinning already, this is a ridiculous man he has married and that is something he has known from the start. He's not surprised.

“I'm in pain,” Blaine whines. “And I'm really hungry!”

Kurt rolls his eyes at him and sighs loudly and shakes his head gravely. “The things I put up with for you. Seriously.”

“I know,” Blaine says. “But in return, you're my very favorite husband!”

“I bet you say that to all your husbands,” Kurt says, and kisses him once. “Do you need a new ice pack before we eat?”

Blaine grimaces and nods. “Actually … but I can get it myself, I managed all afternoon -”

“You stay right where you are,” Kurt says, and kisses him again before getting up to put the old ice packs back in the freezer and get new ones, and quickly check the bandage even though he doesn't really know what he's supposed to be looking for there. But he still needs to check it, it's Blaine's ankle, and Kurt loves his ankle as much as he loves the entire rest of him.

Everything taken care of, they sit on the couch with their sides pressed together and Kurt insists on feeding Blaine pizza just to piss him off, getting cheese on his nose and cheeks and pretty much everywhere.

Kurt grins and hands him another slice once he's managed to feed most of the first one to Blaine. This time he lets him have his own on a napkin and then graciously exchanges their slices when Blaine complains loudly that Kurt has more green olives on his than he does and that he absolutely needs green olives because they make his ankle hurt less.

This is a ridiculous man he has married. And he is so, so happy about that.


End file.
